They let her pity party for three hours before Alice went in to drag her out of her room again. She was clean this time, and had washed her hair, possibly with shampoo. Without a dense layer of dirt clinging to her, she almost looked like a pleasant, trustworthy human being.
“Get up,” Alice said from the door. She had Milo with her, who seemed to be tired, and who curled quietly at Alice’s feet and tucked his paws under his chin for a pillow.
Marie didn’t respond. She’d decided to ignore her surroundings until they went away, and besides, she now had a killer headache.
“I said, get up,” Alice said, crossing to the bed and pulling Marie out onto the floor by her wrists.
“Ow! What the hell?” Marie yelled.
“We’re done with your pathetic displays, okay?” Alice said, unfazed. You’ve been here for almost three days. You can’t wish yourself out of here by crying and acting like a damsel in distress. No one’s going to save you. Start acting like a goddamn woman and take responsibility for yourself.”
Marie drew herself up, stung.
“Fuck off,” she spat.
“Yeah, that’s real nice,” Alice replied. “How about thank you, Alice, for saving me from the middle of the fucking jungle? Or thank you, Elsy, for giving me food and clothes? Or even, I don’t know, thank you, Hershel, for tending to my wounds because I’m apparently an incompetent child?”
Marie said nothing, and stared at a long crack in the yellow plaster in the wall. She thought about how frankly, Alice was being somewhat of an ass, and also, how badly she wanted a glass of water and some ibuprofen.
“That’s what I thought,” Alice said, taking her silence, mistakenly, for complacency. “Now put your shoes on, we’re going for a walk.”
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